SLAVA POLUNIN, a 46 year old Russian, is generally acknowledged to be one of the greatest living clowns in a tradition stretching from Grimaldi and Brock to Buster Keaton, Stan Laurel and onwards. His performance in Snowshow, which has opened in Cork prior to the Dublin Theatre Festival, underwrites his stature.

He enters like a self operated marionette, with a kind of rotary walk from the knees down, and the audience begins to chuckle. Hearing this, he turns in puzzlement, and his lugubrious, painted face yields a slow smile, making them laugh. Actually, he is towing a rope with which to hang himself but, when he pulls it from the wings, another clown is attached, bent on the same errand. The frustration is mutual.

Soon he is engaged in a failed attempt to subdue a rebellious balloon which squeaks back at him. The only other live performer, Angelo de Castro from Brazil, shuffles around like a down at heel penguin, a straight man with a difference. Slava appears transfixed with arrows, propelled into a dying swan act which takes him into the audience, walking on the tops of the seats, evoking squeals of pure mirth.

The scale of his endeavour is stepped up in the second half. An attempt to clean the stage of cobwebs finally covers the audience in gauzy stuff. Balloon telephones engage him in a two way conversation of incomprehensible but meaningful sound. He conjures an arctic scene, culminating in a blizzard which engulfs the theatre. In the end, he disappears quietly while his fans are battling with giant balloons.

Slava is one of those rare artistes who have climbed to the top of their chosen tree. It is simply not possible to mistake him for less than he is. My only gripe is that, at some 80 minutes, including a 15 minute interval, the performance is on the short side but then there is something to be said for leaving the table still hungry for more.